


It Was Always You

by Loverontheleft



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 11:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverontheleft/pseuds/Loverontheleft
Summary: Technically a tumblr request, but this is a series of oneshots/vignettes in an AU with high school B and reader.By request: the reader and B are in high school and have been best friends since forever and the reader wants to lose her virginity before she graduates so she asks B cause he’s very experienced.Warnings: dirty talk, suggestive language, oral sex, sex, talk of forgoing condoms.Word count: 8.3 k





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

It’s a Friday afternoon. Okay. Now or never. You take a breath and roll your shoulders back. “Brendon,” you call as you scurry through the crowded halls during class change. “Brendon, wait.” You’re calling after your best friend and he stops short when he hears your voice. The girl behind him nearly crashes into him and she snaps at him before recognizing him. He says something, fingers brush her elbow, and she melts and continues down the hall. You arrive next to him. “Did you know her?” He shakes his head. “Well, she damn near turned to jello when you touched her elbow.”

He leans against a locker with a playful smirk. “Oh, Y/n, you know I just have that effect on girls.” You roll your eyes and are trying to make the next words come out of your mouth when his fingers graze your upper arm to get your attention. “What are you doing on F hall? Your third and fourth blocks are both on C.”

“Had to ask you something.” He gives you an inquisitive look and gestures to the phone in your hand. “Had to ask you something in person.” He waits patiently and you plunge forward. “Do you want to hang out tonight?”

He smiles. “Not sure why you couldn’t have texted that, but sure.” His eyes light up. “Oh! Do you want to help me with my  _Hamlet_ paper?”

You grin, nodding. “Sure, we can work on that. I was going to suggest a movie at my house, but a paper works too.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Y/n. I’ll meet you at your house after school?”  _God, he’s beautiful when he smiles…oh, he asked you a question._

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then,” you tell him, turning and taking off. “Can’t be late for Pre-Cal again,” you explain as you go. “Bye Brendon!”

-||-

“What flavor are you?” He’s leaning against a column on your porch when you answer the door.

“I’m sorry, what?” You replay the question. “Yeah, what?”

“What flavor are you? You’re a lifesaver; what flavor are you?” He grins and stands up, following you inside.  _Whatever flavor you want me to be,_ you muse _,_ biting your lip since he can’t see you.

“I’ve always been partial to the pineapple ones,” you tell him as you drop onto your couch.

“Mmmmm,” he agrees as he sits next to you. “An excellent choice.” He sets his bag on the ground and looks over you. “Your mom working late again?”

You nod and brandish a twenty dollar bill. “She left cash for pizza. Tony’s Hawaiian chicken?”

He groans and covers his heart. “Oh Y/n, and here I thought you didn’t care.” He grins at you. “That sounds great. But you should get-“

You interrupt him. “An extra garlic sauce? Yeah, we’re not good at sharing,” you say with a short laugh as you call the local pizza place down the street from you. Once it’s ordered, you look at him. “Okay.  _Hamlet_. What topic are you doing? I did Ophelia and her quote unquote madness when I wrote this paper last year.”

He smiles. “You being an English ahead of me has worked out so well. God bless your little honors brain.” He leans over and jokingly kisses your forehead. “I was thinking I’d do something with Hamlet’s depression, whether it’s real or an act.” He looks at you uncertainly. “If you think that’s good.” You nod eagerly. “Okay, great.” His shoulders drop in relief. “I didn’t have a backup topic,” he admits and you shake your head with a smile.

“Of course you didn’t. Okay, so what’s your thesis?” He looks at you blankly. “Brendon, you’re killing me,” you groan, dropping your head back on the couch. “What are you arguing? What do you believe?”

“I believe in a thing called love,” he sings and you shove him playfully. “Okay, okay. I’ll be serious. I want to argue it’s real. He says a few times that it’s an act to fool his uncle, but I honestly think he was depressed and didn’t know it.”

“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. What four main points do you have to prove that?” You’re interrupted by a knock on the door. You look at each other, faces giddy. “Pizza! We’ll finish this later?” He nods and you scramble off the couch.

You’re each on your second slice and he’s browsing Netflix looking for a movie, his  _Hamlet_  paper fully outlined. “There’s nothing on here,” he moans, slumping over in defeat.

You grin. “Surely that’s not true. That’s not a great business plan for Netflix.” He groans and flicks your thigh. “Here, go through this,” you say as you grab your DVD collection case from the lower shelf of the coffee table and pass it to him. “I’m really feeling - and you can override me but - I’m really leaning towards-“

“The Italian Job?” He interrupts you with a smile and you nod. “Same.” He slips the DVD from its sleeve and stands to get it started. Once the menu comes up, you hit ‘play’ on the remote and you curl up under his arm, knees tucked to the side. His arm drapes casually across your shoulders and you both go back to your pizza. When you’ve both finished, you take his plate and put his and yours on the coffee table before snuggling down and resting your head in his lap like you always do. It’s never seemed to bother him; like always, he plays with your hair with one hand and drapes the other arm across your stomach. You close your eyes for a moment and take a soft, slow breath before sitting up. He looks at you strangely and you bite your lip; your nerves have doubled. “Y/n, you okay? You’re being weird again…”

“Brendon, how long have we been friends?”

He ponders the question. “However many years it’s been since kindergarten, I guess. Why?”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

He pauses the movie and shifts to look at you full-on now. “Okay, sure. What’s up?”

Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. You lean forward and kiss him and he freezes under your touch. Unsure of what to do, you pull back, face on fire. “I’m sor-“

“Was that the favor?” His voice is low and you can’t quite read his tone.

“Uh. No.” You shift awkwardly. “I. Well. Okay so we’re graduating in 3 months and… I…fuck, I don’t want to go to college a virgin…and you’re my…and you’ve…you’ve…” You close your eyes. His hand touches your cheek and you relax into it, eyes opening. He’s looking at you so softly.

“I’m your best friend. And I’ve slept with a few people.” He smiles ruefully. “So you want to sleep with me?” He looks confused and a little wary and is that a hint of hopeful? “Y/n, are you sure you don’t…I don’t know, want to wait for someone important? Special?”

“But you are important and special,” you protest. “You’re my best friend. Who else would I want it to be? You’ve been there for everything. You were even my first kiss,” you point out and he gives you an incredulous look. “Naomi’s house party freshman year? We played truth or dare with a group of people?”

He goes wide-eyed. “That was your-“ you nod and he frowns a little. “Well fuck…I had no idea. I’m sorry. I would have done a better job if I had known. But, I will say, you didn’t kiss me like it was your first kiss.”

You shrug. “I have no complaints now and I don’t remember being disappointed at the time either. And I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know. I was embarrassed. And as for my technique, I graciously accept the praise.”

He leans back into your couch and sighs. “Y/n, fuck…I don’t know! I mean, you’re my best friend. And don’t get me wrong, you’re funny and amazing and hot and I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it, because you’re incredible…but…fuck, your first? Me?”

You avert your eyes. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You want to evaporate. Disappear. Pretend you said nothing. You reach for the remote and his hand stops yours.

“At what point did you hear me say I didn’t want to?” You turn to look at him, sure he can hear your pulse. “I just want to do a better job at this than I did your first kiss.” He’s looking at you seriously. “If you really want this…” You nod, still blushing furiously. “Okay.”

You lean forward to kiss him again, desire taking over now, and he’s kissing you back cautiously.  _That’s not going to work_ , you think to yourself, so you crawl into his lap. You’re pretty sure he likes this; his last girlfriend did it all the time whenever she would come over with him. He always seemed to struggle with telling her to stop, to behave, to not be like this in front of Y/n. You never liked her and Brendon knew it.

He groans a little and you smile at being right. His hands rest on your hips, unsure, so you whisper against his lips, “do what you want.” He takes the hint and pulls you closer, one hand in your hair, the other moving up and down your back as his lips move over yours, tongue teasing you perfectly. You’re grinding softly against him and fumbling with the hem of his shirt, tugging at it in frustration when he pulls back to look at you, pupils fully dilated, lower lip caught in his teeth.

“What are you doing?”

You huff in frustration. “What does it look like I’m doing, Urie? I’m trying to get you naked.”

He shakes his head a little, the hand from your back moving to catch your hand at his shirt. “We’re not going to do this now, here.” You look…well, you don’t even know how you look but you feel sideswiped. “I’m going to do better than your first kiss.”

“So…when?” You’re a little impatient and he grins, kissing your forehead. “That feels good,” you mumble and he nods, lips still against your skin.

“I need 24 hours.” You make a small complaining noise and he brushes your hair back over your ear. “You’ve waited this long, you can wait another day.” He grins when you roll your eyes, annoyed. “I just want to do this correctly. You’re important to me.” You nod, accepting this and he lifts you out of his lap with ease. “But my planning starts now, so I gotta get home.” You sigh and he pulls you to your feet, arms tight around your waist. “You’re my best friend, Y/n. Let me do this right.”

You walk him to the door and his eyes move over your face, studying you. He reads something there that gives him permission, so he leans forward and kisses you gently, an arm slipping around your back and tugging you closer so you’re practically flush against him. “Text me,” you whisper and you tug gently at his hair.

He grins, pulling away. “I’ll text you,” Brendon promises, and with a squeeze of your hand, slips out your front door.

He’s been gone maybe 10 minutes when your phone vibrates. You check it, trying to temper the giddy feeling in your stomach. “ _Have a good night, Y/n. I’ll pick you up at 11:30 tomorrow._ ” Another message comes in as you’re reading. “ _And because I know you’ll ask, dress code is elevated casual. What you’d wear on a date. But be comfortable; it’s just me_  😉.”

You put your phone down and try to fight the smile that’s playing on your lips. Then, reconsidering, you grab your phone and reply. “ _It’s not “just you.” Thank you. Sleep well, B_.”

You’ve taken off your makeup and are getting in bed when your phone buzzes again, except this time he’s calling. When you answer, there’s no greeting from him - just: “Because I’m going to need all of my energy tomorrow?” You blush a little and giggle.

“Are you flirting with me?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them and you hear him shift in bed. You slip under the blankets and clutch your phone to your ear.

“Maybe a little,” he admits quietly and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Does it bother you?” You make a quiet sound, indicating a no, and you can hear him stretch, a soft groan filling your ears.  _Fuck_. “Good. Because you’re getting the entire Brendon Urie treatment tomorrow. And it includes complimentary flirting and a minimum of 5 suggestive comments per every two hours.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you tell him and he laughs quietly. “I’m gonna go to sleep now.”

“Sleep well. You’re going to need your energy tomorrow. Goodnight Y/n.” And he hangs up before you can reply. Almost immediately a text comes through from him. “😉.”

You feel yourself blush and you connect your phone to the charger before shutting your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

-||-

Your alarm goes off early at 7:30am. It’s earlier than you’d normally wake up on a Saturday, but Brendon is coming to get you at 11:30 and you want to look as perfect as you possibly can. You shower first, piling all of your wet hair on top of your head as you fill the tub with water. He’s made fun of you for it in the past, but you can’t just take a bath. You’d end up in a tub of hot dirty water. Better to shower first and let your hair dry to a manageable dampness while you relax in the hot water. You linger for a while, eyes shut and various scenarios playing through your head. “God,” you whisper, sitting upright. “Focus.” You shave your legs carefully, pausing when it comes to your bikini line. “You’re overthinking this,” you say out loud and set to work. Once out of the tub, you moisturize and go through your skin routine before spritzing your hair with heat protectant. You reach for the blow dryer and hesitate. You can’t remember how he likes your hair. Straight? Your natural waves? Has he ever said? “You’re overthinking this,” you repeat, shaking your head a little and grabbing the barrel brush to start the blow-out. “Go with what you like. You need to feel confident,” you tell yourself and nod at yourself in the mirror.

It’s 10:30 by the time your hair is dry and your makeup is done; you’re not sure what he’s got planned so you decide to eat something quickly before getting dressed. Your mom is at the kitchen table when you scamper downstairs and she looks at you curiously.

“Well don’t you look nice,” she muses. “Big plans today?”

You shake your head as you pour granola into a bowl of yogurt. “Just hanging out with Brendon.” You wonder if she can hear the tension and anticipation in your voice. If she does, she doesn’t comment on it. She nods vaguely behind her newspaper and talks absentmindedly about her busy day at the office yesterday and you nod and make the appropriate noises as you eat quickly. Once you’ve washed out the bowl and have placed it and your spoon in the dishwasher, you turn to her. “I’m gonna go change…will you let me know when he’s here?”

She looks up at you. “You mean he won’t just walk in and go up to your room? You’ve been friends for ages, Y/n, easily 13 years…am I suddenly supposed to be some gatekeeper?” She looks amused and you blush a little but will it down.

“No…no that’s fine. He can come upstairs.” She’s not listening though; her eyes are moving across the printed page again.

You head upstairs to change, staring at the jeans and top you pulled out early this morning.  _Is it too casual? He did say casual but like a date but comfortable. Fuck._ You tug the jeans on and turn to look at yourself in the mirror. The jeans are good. The jeans can stay. You study the top before putting it on, taking in the keyhole neckline and how it fits snugly. With the right shoes and jewelry, you’ll be fine. You’ve just put your earrings in when there’s a soft knock at your door. “Come in,” you call, thinking it’s your mom. It’s not.

“Wow,” he whispers, leaning in your doorway. “You look great.” You turn to him anxiously.

“Are you sure? You can tell me it’s too much, that I should change…” Brendon shakes his head and you study him for the first time. “You look great too,” you tell him, eyes moving down slowly before returning to meet his eyes. “Hey, didn’t I get you that-“

“Shirt for my birthday last year? Yes.” He smiles and extends his hand. “Shall we?” You nod and place your hand tentatively in his. “Don’t worry, Y/n, I don’t bite…hard.” He winks when you look at him, both startled and a little amused. He stops in the hallway and leans you up against the wall, hand on your hip, forehead against yours, lips barely touching. “Unless you want it hard.”

“Brendon…” you run your fingers up his chest and tug at his collar. He grins. “You’re good at this.”

He rocks back on his heels and squeezes your hand. “You’re going to be saying that a lot today, Y/n. Let’s get started.”

-||-

He turns to you from the driver’s seat of his car with three playing cards in his hands. “Pick a card, any card.” You give him a curious look and he nudges the cards closer towards you. “They’re our options for the day. I have created three brilliant plans, each perfect for you in some way. But now it’s up to you. So pick a card.”

You reach for the middle card and pluck it from his grasp. You read over it and beam at him. “Not to be a broken record, but you’re good at this.” You show him the card. “Lunch at Tony’s.”

“You’re not tired of pizza, right?” You shake your head. “Tony’s it is.” He puts the car in drive and rests his right hand palm up on his thigh. You glance at it and at him. “It’s not a trap,” he chuckles and you place your hand in his. “See? Nothing bad is happening.”

“Brendon, why are you being nice to me?”

He looks at you incredulously. “That’s a dumb question. Because you’re my best friend.”

“Yeah…but…” you gesture with your free hand. “You’re being like…flirty. And acting like this is a date.”

“It  _is_  a date.”

“Is it? I thought we were just going to sleep together and call it a day.” You don’t mean it in a harsh or negative way and thankfully he doesn’t seem to take it that way, but he does frown a little.

“I’m not just going to pick you up from your house, fuck you, and then take you home. You’re my best friend and I love you and I want this to be amazing for you.”

You blink at him. “You love me?”

He shifts in his seat. “Of course. You’re my best friend. Don’t  _you_ love  _me_?” You nod, and he squeezes your hand. “But this  _is_  a date,” he clarifies with a soft smile. “Even if it’s the only one we ever go on, this is a date. Because you deserve a really good date before really good sex.” He parks the car at Tony’s and looks over at you. “Don’t even think about opening your own door,” he warns you and you sit back in your seat, grinning a little. He opens your door and offers you his hand, lifting you from the car and walking beside you into the restaurant, his hand pressed to the small of your back almost possessively.

Tony sees you and exclaims loudly how he’s missed seeing you both. You’ve been coming here together for homework sessions since junior high; Tony and his pizza are both constants in your friendship. He ushers you to your favorite booth in the back and takes your drink orders. Brendon looks at you. “Hawaiian chicken?” You nod, and he turns to Tony. “One large Hawaiian chicken please. And garlic cheesy bread,” he adds and your face lights up. “Oh, and an extra garlic cup,” Brendon finishes and Tony nods, looking at your hands linked over the table with an approving smile. When he leaves, Brendon leans in close. “I think he thinks we’re dating,” he whispers conspiratorially.

You grin. “Well, this is a date. I have that from a reputable source.”

Tony is back with your drinks and the garlic cheesy bread; he places everything on the table and beams at you both. “Enjoy!” As he walks away, the two of you tear into the bread and Brendon winks at you as you dip your piece of bread in garlic and lick the rivulet of sauce dripping down the side of it.

“Tease,” he comments and you look playfully offended. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Y/n, you know what you’re doing, running your tongue up over that piece of bread.”

You grin, chewing slowly before swallowing. “I,” and you reach for your drink, “don’t know what you’re talking about, Urie.”

He rolls his eyes and takes a bite of of his own piece. “I don’t buy it. That little innocent act? I don’t buy it Y/l/n.”

The banter continues through lunch, and you’re a little amazed at how easily you’ve both fallen into this scenario. He did promise you the full treatment, but this doesn’t feel forced or strained; this is just…this is just the two of you like you always are, but the sexual tension you didn’t know you were hiding is out now. You hope it’s the same for him. When you’re both full, he holds out another three playing cards. You give him a look and he shrugs. “You’re in control Y/n. I know I’m orchestrating and arranging, but ultimately, I want you to feel like you’re in control here. Every decision is yours; I’m just here to make them happen.”

You pluck the far left card from his grasp and smile before you turn it over. “I appreciate that, Brendon. I really do.” You flip the card and laugh. “Bowling. You’re going to kick my ass.”

He gives you a look. “When have I ever kicked your ass?” You give him a disbelieving stare and he breaks, laughing. “Okay, yeah, literally every other time we’ve gone bowling. But this time will be different.” His hand finds yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles. “Because this time, we’re on a date.” You eye him warily over your water, your breath catching in your throat at his gentle touch.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

-||-

“See, didn’t I promise?” His breath is warm on your neck and his right hand curls around your waist to press you back against him as his left cradles yours, bringing your arm back and releasing the ball down the shining lane. It’s the last frame; you just need 7 points to win. You lean back against his chest and watch the ball hurtle towards the pins. It’s a clear strike and when the pins fall as predicted, you turn in his arms and kiss him fiercely. “Damn, Y/n,” Brendon mumbles after a moment, kissing down your neck, “if I had known all it took was helping your bowling score…” You giggle and he moves back up your neck and captures your lips again. “I did promise,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “And I keep my promises, baby.”

“Baby, hmmm?” You look at him breathlessly. “I like that.” He winks and reaches into his back pocket and pulls out three playing cards. You go for the far right one and turn it over, blushing a little. You read it aloud and flip it to face him. “Take me to bed, Brendon.” Wordlessly, he turns the other two cards for you to see them. Both say the same thing. You meet his eyes and grin. “Damn, Urie, you’re good.”

-||-

“Brendon,” you mumble against his lips. You’re out in his car in the bowling alley parking lot; you haven’t made it any further. “Brendon,” you repeat and tug at his hair. He stops kissing you and looks at you curiously. “You should take me to bed.”

His eyes darken and his breath catches in his chest; he kisses you one last time before pulling away and putting the car in drive. “Sorry about that,” he glances over at you. “I got a little carried away.” You smile and bite your lower lip.

“How is this so easy?” He looks at you, the question in his eyes and you clarify. “We’re best friends. We’re not dating. We shouldn’t be able to make out in a car with such ease. It should be awkward, clumsy, something!” His hand has found yours again and he squeezes it.

“Let me ask you this then.” He glances over at you. “Why did you ask me to do this?” You don’t answer and he presses onward. “Really. There are plenty of guys at this school who would happily sleep with you and be gentlemen about it. Probably. They at least wouldn’t be dicks about it. So why me?”

You look at him helplessly. “Because…because…well, why did you say yes?” He chuckles and shakes his head ‘no,’ as if to say he won’t answer until you do. “I mean, you’re my best friend, Brendon. Of course I’m going to want it to be you.”

“But that’s the thing Y/n, that just doesn’t add up. You’re my best friend and I shouldn’t want to sleep with you; people who are just friends don’t want to sleep with each other. But I do. I do want to be your first and I do want it to be amazing, not just because I’m your best friend, but because…because…well, honestly, because I think I’ve known for a long time we’ve had something more.”

He doesn’t live far from the bowling alley; at this point, he’s turning into his neighborhood and your heart is racing. “What do you mean, ‘we’ve had something more?’ What does that mean?” You’re looking at him wide-eyed and his thumb moves soothingly over the back of your hand.

“It means there’s a reason it’s so easy for us to hold hands and flirt and tease. There’s a reason it’s easy, no, natural, for me to want to call you ‘baby,’ and for you to like it. There’s a reason kissing each other feels natural and right and why we don’t want to stop. There’s a reason you asked me to be your first and there’s a reason I said yes and I think we both, deep down, know that it’s always been the other for each of us. Y/n, it’s always been you. I know that now.” He parks the car and leans over the armrest to look at you intently. “You can say no. You can change your mind. Not just now, at any point. I’ll stop, I’ll take you home, and if you want me to stay, I’ll stay and we’ll watch a movie or something. If you want me to go, that’s okay too. You don’t - we don’t have to do this.”

“But I want this,” you whisper, meeting his eyes. “It has always been you. So take me inside, Brendon.”

He’s quickly out of the driver’s side and at your door, taking your hand and pulling you up into his arms. “Of course, baby.” A pleasant chill goes through you and he notices, kissing you softly and cradling your face in one hand. “Let’s get you inside.”

-||-

“Brendon,” you gasp when he pushes his bedroom door open. You turn to look at him in amazement and he smiles, kissing your forehead. “How did you-?” His room, normally messy, is pristine and his bed - which is what really caught your attention- is covered in rose petals and there are unlit candles everywhere.

“I’m sorry if it’s cheesy,” he mumbles into your shoulder and you shake your head. “I just wanted this to be nice.”

“It is nice,” you tell him softly. “It’s so nice.” You wrap your arms around him and kiss him longingly. “It’s so nice.” He lifts you slightly so your legs tangle around his waist and he carries you to his bed, setting you down gently, pulling a lighter from his bedside table, and lighting the candles before crawling over you. “Brendon,” you whisper, clutching at his shoulders when you feel him hard against you. “Are you ha-“

“Getting there,” he mumbles against your lips and kissing you deeply, his tongue flicking out to caress yours. “Definitely getting there, baby.” You spread your legs a little more for him, letting out a soft, happy noise when he tentatively rocks against you. “God, Y/n,” he murmurs when he slips a hand under your shirt to touch your stomach, “you’re so soft and smooth. Can I-?” He lifts your shirt hesitantly and you nod, arching and shifting so he can pull it off of you. “Y/n…” his eyes are dark and his expression is hard to read; he’s looking at you in the lace bra you picked out this morning; it’s a soft creamy pink lace and easily the nicest bra you own. He meets your eyes as he reaches out to touch the swell of your breasts. “Can I-?” You nod again and his thumb moves over your skin. His eyes flutter shut as he just feels you, and you moan quietly when you feel him get harder against you. “God, baby, you feel what you do to me? You feel my dick?” You gasp, and he pulls back to look at you, concern evident. “Too far?”

“No, no.” You try to reassure him breathlessly, running a hand through his hair. “Just…really hot. Hearing and feeling what I do to you.” You blush and he rocks his hips against you, eliciting another gasp.

“That’s all for you, Y/n. You make me this crazy; you make my dick so hard.” You rub back against him, eyes shut in pleasure. “You wet for me, baby?” You nod, biting your lip. “Can I feel? Can I touch you, feel how wet I make you?”

“God, please!” You’re a little surprised at the neediness in your voice but he doesn’t mind. His hands move from your breasts down to the button of your jeans and together you work to get them off. Your underwear matches your bra and he moans low in the back of his throat as he stares at you. “Touch me, Brendon, please.” His fingers graze over your thigh and move up to stroke you lightly.

“Jesus, Y/n,” he groans. “I can feel you through these. I made you this wet?” You nod desperately, pushing against his fingers. “How long have you been this wet?” You shake your head, blushing and he repeats the question, stroking you with more pressure.

“A…awhile,” you admit, and he kisses you roughly, tongue and fingers finding a matching pace. “Please,” you gasp into his mouth, “please touch me.”

“I am touching you,” Brendon notes and you give him a desperate look. “Oh, you want my fingers inside your pretty lace panties, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly. “Touch me.” He slides your panties out of the way and circles your opening with two fingers, barely pressing against you.

“How far have you gone?”

“Derek, um, Derek fingered me once. With one finger, not two.”

“Did it hurt?” You nod. “Did you come?” You shake your head. Brendon frowns. “Best day of my life so far was when you dumped him.” He gently presses one finger in and you moan, rocking your hips against him, seeking more. “Patience baby,” he whispers, going slightly deeper. His forehead is creased in concentration and he presses deeper still. He pulls back and looks at you. “Can I add another finger?” When you nod, he carefully, gently slides two fingers into you and you gasp, clutching his shoulders. He freezes and you shake your head.

“Feels so good; please don’t stop.” He relaxes a little and finds a good rhythm, kissing you again and muffling your moans of pleasure. Your hands cup your breasts and you’re squeezing and rolling your nipples through the fabric of your bra and he groans when he pulls back and sees this. “I’ll take it off,” you offer and he nods, fingers still rocking in and out of you. You sit up, reach behind you to unclasp it, and let it fall from your chest. You swear his eyes roll back in his head and you lay back down just as his lips close around one of your nipples. “Brendon,” you gasp, arching into his mouth. He’s licking and suckling and it feels so good; add to that his fingers and you’re feeling like you might actually be close. You’ve never had an orgasm before; you’re not sure what ‘being close’ actually feels like, but you’ve never felt like this before. “God, Brendon, I think I’m-“

He pulls back and meets your eyes. “Can I use my tongue?”

“Haven’t you been?” You think he’s talking about on your chest and he shakes his head, kissing down from your breasts over your stomach. “Oh,” you whisper and he smiles, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses over your panties while his fingers thrust. “I’ve never-“

“Yes or no, baby? Totally up to you, but I’d love to taste you.”

“God, you like doing that?” His eyes go wide and he nods eagerly. “I mean, if you like it-“

His fingers slide out of you and he slips down between your legs, eyes on yours as he gives a soft lick to your entire opening. “Oh my god,” he groans, and you whisper it too. “Baby, you’re so sweet. You taste like fucking candy. Can I? Can I please eat you out?”

“Oh my god,” you repeat, arching your back. “God, Brendon, yeah, if you really like doing that-“ His fingers spread you wide as his tongue plunges into you and you shriek, hands flying back to your breasts. “Holy fuck,” you gasp and his tongue is curling inside of you, pressing deep and thrusting while his thumb rubs needily at a spot closer to the front and you can’t breathe, “oh fuck, Brendon, oh my god, oh my god, I can’t - I don’t -“

“Just relax and come for me, baby.” He looks up at you, mouth shining and you moan when he covers all of you with his mouth, sucking and licking and moaning against you. “Come for me,” he repeats, muffled against you and you try to take his advice and just relax.

“I can’t - I don’t -“ you’re getting frustrated and he pulls back, eyes soft. “I want to come, I just - I don’t -“

“Ssssh,” he soothes, sliding back up to be level with you. “It’s okay. You’ve never…?” You shake your head, and you can feel the tears brimming. “No no no,” he whispers, wiping at your tears. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Just tell me what you’re feeling, okay?”

You sniffle and he kisses your forehead, pulling you in tight. “It feels…it feels good, I promise,” and he grins, nodding. “It’s like this tightening pressure and I’m all warm and the pressure should hurt but it doesn’t; but it’s just like - god, this is embarrassing- it feels I have to-“

He smiles. “You’re not going to pee. Sorry,” he adds when he sees you flinch and blush a little. “But you’re not. I promise. It feels the same, but I promise, it’s just a G-spot orgasm.”

You look at him curiously. “How do you know - I don’t want to know, never mind. You promise?”

He smiles softly and kisses your lips. You whimper when you taste yourself on him and he parts your lips with his tongue to really let you taste. “I promise,” he whispers after a moment. “I promise. Do you want to try again?” You hesitate and then nod.

“Will you…can you make me, even if I can’t relax all the way?” Your question is quiet and he smiles, kissing your forehead. “I feel like if it can just happen once, I’ll relax for the others.”

“I can try. I’m going to give you my other hand. When you get to that point, just squeeze, okay baby? I’ll do my best to get you there. I promise it’s going to be okay.” You nod again and he kisses your cheek before wiggling back down between your legs. His hand is tight in yours on your stomach and he kisses the inside of your thighs, giving soft delicate little licks and breathing warm air on your skin.

“Feels good,” you mumble, and he moans, pressing forward to slide his tongue into you again, circling deep and thrusting gently before pulling back and sliding three fingers in deep. “Oh god, Brendon,” you sigh happily and he rocks his fingers quickly, pressing his mouth to the top half of you, where his thumb was rubbing before. His tongue is rubbing soft circles and his fingers are pumping hard; you can feel yourself reaching that point. “Close,” you whisper, and his tongue stops moving so he can kiss you there, lips sliding and closing while his fingers work ceaselessly. “Oh god, I’m close,” you repeat, squeezing his hand. He pulls back ever so slightly, just enough so you can hear him and he can meet your eyes.

“I love you, Y/n. Come for me, baby.” His fingers go deep and he curls them inside you and you shriek, back arching and your free hand grips his hair as your hips rock. His face is back between your legs and he’s licking and sucking and slurping at you, all the while his fingers are still pistoning in and out of you.

“Oh god, oh god, oh fuck, Brendon,” you whimper, and if this is what an orgasm is, you know why people talk the way they do. You’re writhing under his touch and you can feel something warm and wet spilling from you, but he promised and his tongue is collecting all of it and he’s moaning and grunting and is he-? You crane your head enough to see that yes, his hips are rocking against the bed and since you’ve dropped his hand to clutch at your breasts, he’s got his hand between his body and the bed.

“Oh my god,” he gasps when you’re coming down, your body no longer writhing, but twitching and shaking. He crawls up over you and lays flat on you, kissing you fiercely as you cling to him. “Your cunt is to die for.” You don’t even flinch at the language; from him, the word isn’t harsh or hateful, it’s soft and reverent. But he must remember - you’ve had this conversation before, probably a year ago, about your least favorite words. He knows yours are ‘moist’ and ‘cunt,’ whereas his are ‘delicious’ and ‘flaccid.’ “Fuck, I’m sorry Y/n, I’m sorry baby,” he whispers, rolling off of you and kissing you again. “Your pussy, Jesus Christ, your-“

“It’s okay,” you whisper, grinning. “I don’t hate it, coming from you. I kinda like it from you.” He smiles now, kissing you again. “I feel good,” you murmur, snuggling into him. “Did you mean it?” He looks down at you and you bite your lip. “You said you loved me.”

“Of course I meant it,” he whispers, stroking your hair. You tip your head back to kiss his jawline, moving your hands down his chest.

“I love you too,” you admit and he pulls you close, kissing you roughly, tongue teasing yours. “Fuck, Brendon, you’re so-“ and you palm him through his jeans, whimpering when he bucks into your hand. “God, Bren…” you tug at his waistband, and his hands work at getting them off while your lips work over his neck. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

“Trust me, Y/n, I feel so good making you feel good.” His voice is low and he grunts when your hand curls around him, stroking gently. “God…baby, you don’t have to do anything, I’m okay.”

“I want you to feel better than okay,” you murmur, squeezing lightly. He stills your hand and shifts on top of you, reaching for his bedside table drawer and grabbing a condom.

“Let me,” he tells you, nuzzling your ear. “Let me take care of you and I’ll feel better than okay.” You nod, relinquishing your grasp and tugging his shirt off over his head.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” you whisper tracing a finger down his chest as he rolls the condom into place. He grins and nudges your legs apart, pressing and rubbing you with his whole hand before running it over his length. He holds your hand as he pushes into you slowly. “Oh my god,” you gasp, clutching at his back with your other hand. “Fuck,” you hiss and he stops, eyes wide.

“Baby…?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Keep going. You’re just…fuck, this is more than your fingers, Jesus.”

“I can wait,” he murmurs, and you shake your head. “Y/n, I’ll wait until you’re ready, it’s okay baby.” He kisses your forehead and you press into his touch.

“No, I’m ready. I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt, I promise. Just…” you grab his head and pull his mouth down to kiss him needily, gasping into his mouth. “I feel so full, god.” He grins, pressing his fingers into your hip as he rocks all the way in. “Holy fucking Jesus Christ Brendon,” you moan, eyes shut. “You feel so fucking good.”

“You too baby,” he pants, his face buried in between your neck and shoulder. “So tight, Jesus, fucking love it.” You’re both clinging to each other, breathing hard, and you tangle your hands in his hair, kissing him urgently.

“You can move,” you whisper, spreading your legs a little wider and rocking your hips up, gasping when he pushes forward. “Fuck, this is amazing; you’re amazing,” you tell him, cupping his face in both hands and he turns his head to the side to kiss your palm. “God, Brendon, you are such a good friend,” you say with a laugh.

“You don’t honestly think we’re just going to be friends at the end of this, do you?” He looks at you a little incredulously as his hips rock against yours, grinning when you moan and bite your lip. “Because friends don’t do this.”

“So what are we?”

“I don’t know what we are exactly, but I know you’re mine and I know I love you.” You melt a little into the bed, gasping and clinging to his shoulders. “Say it,” he whispers, his lips at your ear, snapping his hips forward sharply, making you cry out.

“I’m yours, fuck, Brendon, I’m yours. Oh Jesus, I’m yours and I love you, fuck I love you too.”

“Mine,” he whispers, kissing down your neck and grabbing one of your legs and pulling it higher on his hip. “God, Y/n, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” You’re breathless, clutching him close. “I want you to come. Want you to feel as good as I do,” you urge, tightening around him tentatively.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. “So fucking tight.” You moan and he reaches down between your bodies to rub messily at your clit. “You gotta come for me first, okay?”

“God, Brendon, I don’t know if-“

“Yes you can.” He bites your shoulder again. “Yes, you can. Come for me.” He shifts your leg even higher so he’s entering you at a sharper angle, the head of his cock rubbing you right where you didn’t even know you needed it.

“Oh god, oh fuck, Brendon, please,” you whimper, and he pulls all the way out before rocking back in hard and pushing against your clit with two fingers.

“Come for me, love.”

“Oh god,” you whimper as you feel yourself let go. “Fuck, there, god, Brendon, yes, yes, yes, fuck yes.” He’s encouraging you in a low voice, thrusting against you hard, fucking you through your climax and you gasp when a second wave rolls over you. You feel yourself clench around him and you both moan.

“That’s it baby, yes, come for me. Oh fuck,” he hisses and you feel his back tense under your fingertips. “Now, fuck I’m coming for you Y/n,” Brendon groans, and his thrusts are sloppier, less paced, having to rock hard against your tightness. His head falls back, his eyes slip shut, and his lips part a little; despite the condom, you feel him come, a warm sensation spreading through you. “So good,” he moans, slumping over you. You wrap both legs around his waist and hold him to you, relishing the feel of your chests moving together to catch your breath. “I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you, Brendon.” You stroke his hair and moan when he pulls out of you, kissing your forehead. “You felt so good, coming in me like that,” you murmur, and he smiles, squeezing your hand. “If I get on birth control, can we do that again, but without the condom so I can really feel you?” He looks at you with wide eyes. “I mean. Assuming you want to do that again. It’s cool if you don’t. I mean. I’d really like to but-“

“Baby, I definitely want to have sex with you again. And,” he kisses you longingly, exploring your mouth with his tongue before pulling back breathlessly, “I’d love to fuck you hard, get you coming on my dick, fuck you til I come deep in your perfect cunt. You’d really let me fill your pretty pussy up,” and his fingers slip down into you, “with my cum? You want that, Y/n? You want my dick and my cum?”

“Fuck yes,” you whimper, grinding against his fingers. “Love when you talk like this, Brendon, gets me so wet.”

“I know it does; I can feel you, baby,” he says, adding a third finger. “You should know, I get so fucking horny after I come the first time, and I get really explicit and all I wanna do is make you come again. And my dick is usually done after one, for awhile at least, but my fingers and my mouth…” he trails off as his thumb finds your clit. “They can go for hours. And my dirty talk…baby, I’ve got a filthy mind and a filthy mouth, and if you’ll let me, I’ll use both on you til you can’t take anymore.”

“Jesus, Brendon,” you moan, spreading your legs. “Keep talking. I wanna come again. Can you make me come again?”

“Baby, you know I can and I will.” He slides down between your legs, nuzzling your inner thigh. “Gonna let me eat your pussy, Y/n? Gonna let me make you come on my tongue?”

“Please,” you whine, tossing your head back and whimpering when he licks you gently, fingers teasing. “Please make me come.”

“I promise you’ll come,” Brendon whispers. “And you know I keep my promises,” he adds as he pushes his face back against you, licking and sucking like his life depended on it. There’s a sound from downstairs and you both freeze. “Did you hear that?” His voice is soft and you nod, eyes wide. The footsteps of his parents echo through the downstairs.

“Brendon? Are you home?” His mom’s voice calls up the stairs and you both mouth “fuck” to each other. He scrambles off of you and you both dress frantically. Her footsteps are coming up the stairs and drawing near and you can’t remember if he locked the door or -“Oh!” His mom has opened the door and is stunned. You managed to get your pants and bra on and you were pulling your shirt on when she came into the room, but Brendon was still shirtless and his pants were unzipped. “Oh god,” she mutters, covering her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m just - Brendon, your father will need to speak with you about this.” She closes the door. “You should take Y/n home first.”

She walks away and you look at him, horrified. “Well,” he begins, kicking his jeans off again. “That was some shitty timing.”

“Brendon, why are you undressing?” You’re looking at him, wild-eyed. “Your mom just said you had to take me home!” He smirks at you, tugging you back down onto his bed and pulling your jeans down your legs.

“She didn’t say I had to take you home now.” He throws your jeans off the bed and slips your underwear off too. “And after all,” he reminds you, “I promised.”

With those words, his mouth is on you. You stop protesting.


	2. You Get One More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request: the reader shit talking and B making the reader’s mouth useful.
> 
> Warnings: 2.2k
> 
> Word count: dirty talk, language, fingering, oral sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

-||-

Six months after _It Was Always You_

-||-

“B, you’re missing a semicolon there.” You lean over his shoulder as he types. “And that’s passive voice.” You scan the document and point at the screen. “You should take out ‘a lot’ and use a stronger word.”

“Y/n, dear, could you maybe wait to proofread my essay until I’m done?” He looks up at you teasingly. “Not that getting your edits in real-time isn’t thrilling.”

“But I’m bored,” you whine, slumping over the couch so your face is buried in the cushions next to his back. “I’m so bored!”

“It’s not my fault you’re responsible and finished your English paper two weeks before the due date,” he points out. “You could have been like me and waited and we could have done them together over fall break. But nooooooooo, you wanted to be productive.” He ruffles your hair affectionately and you let out a short “hmph” into the cushions. “You could take a nap,” he suggests.

“Not tired,” you say with a pout and he shrugs.

“Well, that’s all I’ve got. Guess you’ll have to entertain yourself, my love.”

“I was entertaining myself,” you say with a laugh. “I was editing your paper in real-time.”

“Find a new way to entertain yourself then,” he comments with an idle grin, eyes focused on the screen. “I should be done in about an hour.”

“An hour?!”

“Yes, baby, an hour.”

“What am I supposed to do for an hour?!”

“Y/n, it’s gonna be a lot longer than an hour if you don’t leave me alone,” he snaps and you recoil, hurt. “Baby, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“Nope. You want to be left alone so you can work, so I’m gonna leave you alone so you can work.” You fling yourself upright and stalk upstairs to his room, shutting the door with emphasis.

“Y/n,” he calls from the couch and you ignore him, throwing yourself into his bed. “Baby?”

“Work on your stupid essay,” you yell, curling into one of his pillows. “Jerk.” You mutter the last part, burying your face in his pillow.

-||-

“Baby,” he calls softly through his bedroom door. “Y/n, will you let me in?”

You stir, eyes fluttering open. “It’s unlocked,” you say flatly and he opens the door, slipping inside.

“Baby,” he sighs, crossing the room to stand over you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“No,” you say, staring at his ceiling. “You shouldn’t have.” You pause, blinking back tears. “But,” you admit, “I shouldn’t have been such a pain in the ass.”

“God, Y/n, no. No, baby, you weren’t.” He hesitates by your side, hand resting on your waist. “Can I-“ and he slips onto the bed beside you when you nod. “You weren’t being a pain in the ass. I was just stressed and I took it out on you.” He pulls you against him, arms circling your waist. “Come here baby, let me hold you.” You relax into his embrace, sniffling a little. “Oh, Y/n,” he sighs, resting his forehead against the back of your head. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I’m trying not to.” You turn to face him, burrowing into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Brendon tells you, kissing the top of your head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, so just let me hold you.” You nod and snuggle closer. “You look really cute today,” he mumbles, and you laugh. “Don’t laugh; I’m being serious. You look really cute. Plus all your grammar talk? Fuck, Y/n, you know how hot that gets me.”

“Yeah?” You look up at him, a smile creeping across your lips. “You like when I talk about comma splices?”

“Fuck, baby, you know I do,” he groans playfully. “Keep going.”

“And passive voice? You like when I try to fix your passive voice?”

“Y/n, you know there’s nothing passive about me.” He grins, kissing your forehead. “Speaking of not being passive; I want to fuck you, but we gotta do it quick.”

“Quickly,” you correct and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Urie, ‘quick’ is an adjective and you needed an adverb. You meant ‘quickly.’ Why, by the way? Why do we have to be quick?”

“Quickly,” he snarks and you shake your head, giggling. “Because I still have two more essays to write for music appreciation,” he admits.

“Mmmmm,” you purr, “then I think I’m going to say no. You can have me as a reward when you’re done with everything.”

“Baby,” he whines, and you giggle again, kissing his neck. “That’s not fair. Will you at least come sit with me until I’m done and you can proofread?”

“You won’t get annoyed when I make suggestions as you type?” You run your fingers through his hair, smiling when he moans.

“I promise I’ll try to not get annoyed,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss you. “If you promise to not tempt me.”

“I’ll do my best,” you sigh dramatically and let him pull you out of bed.

-||-

“Didn’t we say you weren’t going to tempt me?” He looks over at you at the end of the couch, opposite the side where he currently sits, laptop occupying most of his attention. You’re reclining against the armrest, knees bent and your hand working between your thighs.

“I said I’d do my best not to. Not my fault this is more entertaining than your essays.” You slide your fingers in deeper, letting out a breathy moan. “Ooooh fuck Brendon, yes…Though I do wish it was your fingers.”

“Y/n.”

“Or your dick; Christ, I’d like you to fuck me right now, rough and fast. Bend me over this couch and take me.”

“Y/n.” His voice is slightly strangled and you smile, eyes closed as you add a third finger.

“Oh fuck, Brendon, baby, yes, fill me up, goddammit that’s so good,” you whine, hips rolling. “Gonna tease me a little more before you give me your cock? Want me to come more for you, show you how badly I want it?”

“Y/n, I swear to god…”

“Oh fuck!” You let out a sharp squeal, hips spasming as you come. “Brendon, baby, lick it, lick my pussy, God that’s so good baby, suck on my clit just like that, oh baby, you’re so naughty, eating my pussy like this, but you’re so good too-“

“Y/n,” he says sharply, getting your attention. “Take your fucking fingers out of your cunt right now and be quiet.”

“Mmmm, no,” you moan, grinning. “I’m having such a good time like this, but I appreciate the suggestion. Oh fuck, love when you lick my clit before you slide your tongue up into my-”

“Y/n, you get one more chance before I find a better use for that filthy mouth of yours.”

“Oooooh,” you groan, “gonna shut me up with that dick of yours? Gonna fuck my dirty mouth while I finger my tight little pussy? Is Brendon Urie going to finally, after 6 months, let his girlfriend go down on him? Gonna finally let her return the favor? Gonna keep her from talking by giving her his cock to suck on? Yeah baby, that’ll keep me quiet for a little bit, but you know I love your dick, think I’m not gonna moan around it, staring up at you longingly, wishing you’d come in my mouth and then in my hot, tight, wet cunt? Fuck Brendon, you tease, fuck me.” You rock your three fingers rapidly, moaning his name.

“Y/n, get over here.” You roll onto your hands and knees in one fluid motion, crawling over to him. He sets his laptop aside and shoves his sweatpants down, revealing his cock, fully erect, already leaking pre-cum. “Do something good with that mouth,” he tells you, and you lunge for his dick, moaning already at the taste. Your hand tightens around the base and you push your mouth down as far as you can, breathing steadily through your nose. You move your hand and press down further, gagging when he hits the back of your throat. “Baby,” he whispers, concerned and you pull back, eyes watering.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him. “I’m okay. Let me do this for you.”

“Baby, no, you don’t have to-“

“I could go back to fingering my pussy and telling you all about it.” His eyes narrow and he rocks his hips up.

“Suck.”

“Yessir,” you whisper, taking him in your mouth again, sucking hard before pulling back to lick eagerly at his tip, moaning when you taste him. Your hand tightens around him and you stroke him roughly, slipping him back in your mouth and pressing down, determination visible in your eyes. When you moan, you feel him slip a little further and you’re pleased, but you don’t want to push it so you pull back, closing your lips around the head of his cock.

“Greedy little thing,” he chuckles, stroking your hair as you run your tongue back and forth over him. “Try yawning,” he suggests idly, and you look at him curiously, but you slide your lips down again and, eyes on his, force a yawn. His entire length slips down your throat and you moan around him, so pleased with yourself. The vibrations ricochet up through his cock and into his body and he cries out, fingers gripping your hair. “God, baby, your mouth,” he moans, eyes shut when you pull back, tongue stroking the underside of his head. “You look so fucking good with my dick in your mouth,” he whispers. “Fuck Y/n, I’m gonna come if you keep that up.”

“Want that,” you groan. “Want you to come.”

“Oh baby,” he sighs, cupping your face. “Take me deep again and suck hard until I tell you to play with the tip.” You obey, sliding your lips down and yawning again, swallowing around him and sucking hard, cheeks going concave as you work. “Yeah baby, relax and tighten your cheeks, just like that,” he instructs, and you do your best. “That’s my good girl,” he whispers, “such a filthy mouth but so good with it. Now,” he says with a sigh, “come back to the tip. Stroke the rest of me but play with the head of my cock, so good baby…” You moan around him, eyes wide and he tugs your hair. “Those fucking sounds,” he groans, “those fucking sounds you make with my dick in your mouth; oh fuck baby, I’m so close. Just- god, just run your tongue up and down, let me see your pretty tongue tease me.”

You pull back, letting your mouth open so he can see your tongue drag up and down his cock. “Come on my tongue,” you murmur, hand tightening around him. “Come in my mouth.”

“Fuck,” he gasps, and he’s spilling over your tongue. Your mouth closes around him and you suck hard, stroking him through it. These soft, unintelligible sounds are coming from him and you bob your head down further, swallowing more. His dick is twitching in your mouth, spurting, and you stroke him until he goes limp under you. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you pull back, grinning. “Yeah, you’d better smile,” he chuckles, pulling you on top of him. “Fuck, that was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His lips brush over yours and you moan into his kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. After a moment, you pull back and look at him teasingly.

“You gonna let me finger myself now while you finish those papers?”

He looks at you in disbelief. “You think I’m just gonna let you go finger yourself after giving me one hell of a blow job?” You shrug and he looks deeply offended. “No, baby. No. The essays can wait. I’m about to eat your pussy like it’s a five-course meal.”

“But your work-“

“Y/n, the only work on my mind is getting you off. Every atom of my being is focused on getting you up on my face.”

“Well,” you sigh with a smile. “Far be it from me to fight science, with all the atoms and whatnot.”

“Atta girl. Get up here, baby.” He gestures to his mouth and he wiggles down the couch to lay flat. You crawl up over him, and he wraps his arms around your thighs to hold you in place.

“You realize you’ve trained me to distract you, right?” You giggle when his tongue flicks out to taste you. “All I have to do is get you all hot and bothered and you’ll let me suck you off and then you’ll eat me out. You’ve created a monster.”

“Oh god,” he groans from underneath and between your legs. “I have.”

“You have,” you agree, rocking a little needily on his face. “Now make me come,” you order him quietly, grinning when his tongue goes flat against you, rubbing insistently. “Yes, Brendon, so good…tease my clit before you fuck me…”

“Oh dear. You’re in for a long, torturous ride it would seem.”

“Am I?” You’re a little breathless, hands in his hair.

“Yep. I need to punish you, because it would seem someone hasn’t learned their lesson about mouthing off,” he murmurs, licking at you idly.

“No,” you admit with a wry grin. “But I did learn a lesson in sucking off.”


	3. My Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request: Now, imagine college AU Brendon where you two are friends and you help him ace his final exam and he kisses you and he just fucks you hard and fast in your dorm…
> 
> Brendon x reader
> 
> Warnings: Dirty talk and language and oral and condomless sex and so much grammar. God, I love grammar.
> 
> Word count: 3.2k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

“Brendon,” you sigh, pushing his hand away from your thigh. “I’m trying to study.” He pouts and puts his hand back, higher this time, and you sigh and shove it away again. “You’re being very distracting.”

“Course I am,” he says with a smug grin, laying on his back so his head rests between your legs as you sit cross-legged on your bed. “You should let me help you study.” You look at him in disbelief and he grins. “I’ll help, honest.”

“How?” Your voice is suspicious and he smiles wider, rolling onto his stomach so he can rest his chin where your calves cross. “Are you really going to help?” He looks offended and you give him a dubious look. “B, you can’t seriously be offended by that question; all you’ve done so far is try to feel me up.”

“And can you blame me?” Brendon gives you an incredulous look now. “You’re in those tiny athletic shorts and all I can think about is your thighs, clenching around my head as I lick your-“ his voice goes muffled as you clap your hand over his mouth. His eyes sparkle as he licks your palm.

“Brendon!” Your squeal makes him laugh and you wipe your palm on your shirt. “You’re not doing a good job of convincing me that you’ll actually help,” you mutter, eyes going back to your index cards of sentence structures. “Goddamnit,” you swear, dropping the index cards. “I’m never going to memorize these before my test tonight.”

Brendon looks concerned. “Baby, yes you will. I’ll stop bothering you.” You frown and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I am being distracting and that’s not cool. I’ll amuse myself. But…” and he hesitates, reaching for your hand that lays listlessly on top of the note cards. “I’d like to help. Can I help at all?” You glance at the stack of index cards and sigh; he scoops them up and flips through them. “God,” he mumbles, “I’ve always said you were too smart for me. What the hell even is all of this?”

You laugh wearily and try to explain. “Sentence structures. All properly written sentences tend to fit one of these ten patterns. I have to memorize these ten patterns.”

“Okay, so don’t focus on memorizing them. I bet you know more than you think. Teach them to me.” He smiles at you eagerly and you blink at him. “Come on, teach me. What’s this one mean? NP one plus V hyphen be plus ADV slash TP?”

You sigh. “Okay, so the NP stands for noun phrase. It’s got a one with it because it’s the first noun phrase. And the V hyphen be is a verb of being, while the ADV slash TP just means an adverb relating to time or place.” He stares at you blankly and you laugh, patting his hand. “‘You are here.’ ‘You’ is the noun phrase, ‘are’ is the verb of being, and ‘here’ is the adverb of time or place. ‘My boyfriend is here’ would also work with that pattern.”

“See, I’m smarter already. You taught me something, and you have to know it to teach it.” He grins at you and you smile. “Next one. What comes after that?” You think hard, eyes closing, before you shake your head in frustration. “Come on baby, you know this,” Brendon encourages. “It’s not an adverb, but a…”

Your eyes light up. “Oh! An adjective functioning as the subjective complement.” He blinks slowly, as if to say, ‘sure…’ and you beam at him. “So it’s all the same except instead of telling where or when something is, it’s describing the subject. For instance,” and you kiss his cheek, “‘my boyfriend Brendon is so helpful.’ ‘My boyfriend Brendon’ is the noun phrase, ‘is’ is the be verb, and ‘so helpful’ is the subjective complement.” You bat your eyelashes at him, biting your lip. “‘My boyfriend Brendon is so sexy’ would also work.”

“My girlfriend Y/n is fucking brilliant,” he counters, kissing you swiftly. “Next one.”

You’re feeling more confident. “This one is the same except it ends in NP one as well, doesn’t it?” Brendon nods and you do a little happy dance. “Okay so, this is when you’ve got a noun phrase serving as the subjective complement. Like…okay, ‘my boyfriend Brendon has been a college student for eight months.’ ‘A college student for eight months’ is a noun phrase but it’s renaming or giving more information for you, so it stays NP one. I do know this shit,” you say proudly, letting him kiss you more firmly. His tongue swipes at your lower lip and you moan, raking your fingers through his hair.

“My girlfriend Y/n is a great kisser,” Brendon mumbles, his lips moving down your neck. “Does that fit your pattern?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly. “‘A great kisser’ is the noun phrase renaming, complementing, or modifying the first noun phrase.” He smiles against your skin and nips at you gently. “Brendon,” you sigh, letting his hands bring you flush against him.

“Does a single word count as a noun phrase?” Brendon wonders aloud, and you nod, whimpering when his fingers move over your stomach and down to the waistband of your shorts. “Give me the next one.” He’s not looking at the index cards anymore; his mouth is working down your neck and over your breasts as he tugs your shirt off over your head.

“Oh god, I think it’s NP one plus LV plus ADJ,” you tell him, and he chuckles and shrugs. “LV being a linking verb, so it would be something like, ‘Brendon looks so fucking good.’ ‘Looks’ as your linking verb and ‘so fucking good’ as your subjective complement.”

“Or,” he suggests as he gets your shorts down your legs, “‘My girlfriend Y/n tastes incredible.’ Right?” You nod and he tugs your underwear down, licking over you needily. “Right,” he confirms with a satisfied moan. “You taste fucking incredible.”

“Brendon,” you sigh, spreading your legs wider for him so he can press closer. “You’re so good at this. God bless every girl you were with before me, because damn.”

He strokes your thighs as he looks up at you tenderly. “It’s got nothing to do with them. It’s solely because I love you and want you to feel amazing. It’s why you give such great blowjobs,” and you blush, but he continues. “Because you love me and want me to feel amazing. It doesn’t matter that I’m your first. What matters is you love me and we communicate about what feels good and we’re both genuinely invested in the other feeling good. I love you, baby.” He kisses the inside of your thigh before pressing his lips to your folds again, moaning hungrily as you writhe under him.

“I love you,” you tell him, playing with his hair. “So much.”

“I love you. What’s the next one?” He stares up at you, eyes sparkling in amusement as his tongue rubs your clit. “Tell me the next one or I’ll stop,” he threatens idly.

“Fuck,” you groan, thinking hard. “Uh. Fuck. It’s - oh! NP one plus LV plus NP one.”

“Give me an example.” He licks you slowly. “Teach me, honey.”

“God, uh…fuck. Okay. ‘Brendon became my boyfriend.’ ‘Brendon’ is the noun phrase, ‘became’ is the linking verb, and ‘my boyfriend’ is the noun phrase as a subjective complement. They’re both NP one because they’re equal. ‘Brendon’ equals ‘my boyfriend.’” He moans happily against you and slips two fingers into your heat, thrusting hard and sucking at your clit. “God, yes,” you whimper, tugging at his hair. “Feels so good. The next one is…I know this. I know this.”

Your head hits the pillow, and Brendon makes an encouraging sound against you; the vibrations pulse through you and you sigh happily. “It’s a…oh. NP one plus V hyphen INT. A noun phrase and an intransitive verb.” Brendon makes a sound of confusion and you clarify. “An intransitive verb is one that doesn’t need a direct object to make it make sense. So…oh god…you feel so good…yeah. ‘You feel so good.’ ‘You’ is the noun phrase, and ‘feel’ is the intransitive verb. ‘So good’ is an adjective, not a direct object.”

“You get me so hot when you talk grammatically,” Brendon groans, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Keep going. God, I’m so fucking hard; keep going.” You giggle and tug his hair, eliciting another sharp moan. “Gonna make me come before I even fuck you, damn baby,” he whispers, hips rolling against your mattress.

“Next is…motherfucker, Jesus Christ, Brendon lick my clit, yes!”

“Which pattern is that?” He sounds amused and he pulls back to rest his slick chin on your thigh as his fingers circle you teasingly.

You ponder and laugh delightedly. “It actually is the next one. NP one plus V hyphen TR plus NP two. ‘Brendon’ is the first noun phrase, ‘lick’ is the transitive verb - that means it needs a direct object for the sentence to make sense - ‘Brendon lick’ wouldn’t make sense. Lick what? ‘My clit’ is NP two, or the second noun phrase. It isn’t an NP one because ‘Brendon’ doesn’t equal ‘my clit;’ does that make sense?” You’re breathing hard and he nods, adding a third finger and rocks his hand against you gently. “God, I know more than I thought.”

“That’s cus you’re smart, baby,” Brendon looks proud and crawls up your body to kiss you firmly. “My clever girl. Studies so hard and still has time to play with me.” His voice is low and his eyes are heavy but you know he means it. He is proud of you. “Keep going. Keep teaching me.”

“Okay. Next is NP one plus V hyphen TR plus NP two plus NP three. And that’s when there’s an indirect object as well.”

“I need an example, honey.”

“‘Brendon gave me an orgasm.’ You hopefully already know what ‘Brendon’ and ‘gave’ are, but ‘me’ is an indirect object. You didn’t give me away, you gave something to me. You gave me an orgasm. So ‘me’ is the indirect and ‘an orgasm’ is the direct object.”

“You haven’t come yet,” Brendon comments, kissing your neck.

You smirk and reach between his legs to squeeze his erection. “Call me confident in your abilities. There’s only two left. God, I can do this.”

“You can do this,” Brendon murmurs, tugging at your earlobe affectionately. “I know you can.”

“Oh, fuck. I know this. It’s. God. It’s uh. Oh! It’s NP one plus V hyphen TR plus NP two plus ADJ. So now instead of an indirect object, the direct object has an adjective functioning as the objective complement.”

“I thought it was subjective complement,” Brendon comments and you shake your head.

“No, a subjective complement is when it’s modifying the subject. Now it’s modifying the direct object.” He grins at you and you laugh. “You knew that.”

“I didn’t,” he protests, looking sincere. “But you did. Clever, pretty girl.”

“Thank you for saying clever first,” you murmur, slightly distracted by his eyes.

“Of course,” he whispers as he leans in to kiss you softly. “You’re gorgeous, but I love your mind too. You’re gorgeous, but it’s not the best or most important thing about you, or the thing I love most about you, so it shouldn’t be the first thing I mention about you. My clever, loyal, kind, funny, generous, pretty girl.” He punctuates each word with a kiss, moving lower each time. “Those are in no particular order by the way. Except for ‘pretty.’ Your looks are just a bonus when I consider everything else you bring to the table.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Y/n. Gonna give me an example of this last pattern?” He winks at you, thumb moving in circles over your stomach. “I didn’t forget.”

“Let me think. Okay. ‘I consider Brendon so sweet and caring.’ ‘Brendon’ is the direct object and ‘sweet and caring’ is a compound adjectival phrase functioning as the objective complement.”

“Getting fancy,” Brendon comments, inhaling sharply when you unbutton his pants and slip your hand inside, curling around him. “Baby,” he sighs, rocking into your grasp. “Feels good.” He indulges himself for a minute, just letting himself enjoy your touch. “Last one. Number ten. You can do this.”

“I can do this,” you repeat, closing your eyes and stroking him harder. “Okay. Number ten. NP one plus V hyphen TR plus NP two plus NP two. ‘Anyone would consider Brendon a fantastic boyfriend.’ ‘Anyone’ is the first noun phrase, ‘would consider’ is the transitive verb, ‘Brendon’ is the second noun phrase functioning as the direct object, and ‘a fantastic boyfriend’ is the objective complement, and it’s also considered the second noun phrase because it’s renaming ‘Brendon.’ God, I knew all of them,” you marvel, impressed with yourself.

“I knew you could do it,” Brendon says confidently, rolling on top of you. “Ready for the real test?”

-||-

“Oh god,” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut as he rocks into you. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah you do. But don’t avoid the question. What’s pattern number seven?” Brendon nips at your earlobe, grinning when you whimper and clutch at his shoulders.

“Seven is…I know this. I know this. Fuck, yes, oh god…Seven is a noun phrase followed by a transitive verb and a direct object. NP one plus V hyphen TR plus NP two, oh god, my pussy, you feel so good in my pussy, fuck me, god Brendon, yes!”

Brendon looks at the index cards he’s taped to your headboard over you but out of your sight and nods. “That’s my girl. My girl gonna keep letting me test her?” You nod and he thrusts into you hard, both of you letting out broken moans when you squeeze around him. “Number three.”

“Th-oh fuck me-ree…three…there there there oh god three…I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” Brendon counters. “Yes you do.” His hips still and he waits, breathing hard. “You’re only punishing us both by stalling, Y/n.”

“It’s a noun phrase and a be verb and noun phrase as subjective complement. NP one plus V hyphen be plus NP one.”

“Example?” Brendon still hasn’t moved and you’re clawing at his back. “Prove it to me.”

“I’ve been your girlfriend for almost a year.” You look at him desperately. “So quit torturing me. That’s your example with a prepositional phrase included in it and me begging for it.”

“And you begged so nicely,” Brendon purrs, thrusting back into you. “That’s my girl. Pattern number four.”

Silence. He stops again, forehead resting against yours. He waits and you frown, concentrating.

“I really don’t know,” you finally admit, voice breaking.

“You do,” Brendon tells you, pinching one of your nipples gently. “You do. Focus.”

“I don’t know,” you insist and you’re near tears. You need to come and he’s being withholding.

“Alright, we’ll come back to it. Number eight.” His eyes are cold now, and he looks like he does when you beg him to be rough and dominating with you. Normally, everything is playful between you, but every now and then, you like him to throw you around a bit and fuck you hard and tell you what to do.

“That’s the one with three noun phrases. A subject and an indirect object and a direct object.” You sound confident and he nods, a flicker of pride in his eyes.

“What’s the difference between patterns one and two?” He kisses your shoulder and caresses your clit gently as a reward. “You know this.”

“It’s…pattern one has an adverb of time or place while pattern two has an adjective!”

“Atta girl. What makes five different from three?”

“Three is a be verb while five is a linking verb. Oh god!” You squeal when he bites behind your ear. “Brendon, yes!”

“Nine and ten?”

“Both have objective complements; nine is an adjective while ten is a second noun phrase, right?” You sound unsure and he nods, kissing your forehead. “And six is…six is a noun phrase and an intransitive verb. Fuck, what is four?”

“You know what four is.” You shake your head and Brendon frowns. “Hands and knees.” He pulls out of you suddenly and you whine, hips bucking as you lose contact. “You heard me,” he says, hands closing over your waist and turning you. “You’re gonna learn number four.” You roll onto your stomach and arch up into the position he wants you so the index cards are at your eye-level. “Read number four.”

“A noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective,” you read slowly, waiting for him to enter you. “Brendon-“ and his hand interrupts you, spanking you hard. “Oh!”

“Again.”

“A noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective.” His hand makes contact again as he rocks into you; you squeal in delight as he tangles his hand in your hair and tugs gently, not enough to break your vision. “A noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective.” He spanks you a third time and you’re moaning, rocking back onto his length.

“Again.”

“A noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective,” you all but chant, eyes slipping closed. “God, your cock, you feel so good in me- oh shit,” you groan when his fingers encircle your clit.

“Again.”

“A noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective!”

“Again.”

“A noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective,” you say in a rush, burying your face in a pillow as he thrusts into you at a merciless pace. “A noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective.”

“Again.” His hand tugs at your hair roughly and you gasp your response.

“A noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective, god Brendon, I’m gonna come.”

“My girlfriend is so sexy. What pattern?”

“Four, it’s pattern four, a noun phrase, linking verb, and adjective, fuck, I’m gonna-“

“Come on me. Pattern?”

“Six, with an understood you as the subject, an intransitive verb, and prepositional phrase at the - oh Jesus God in heaven, my clit, rub my clit, I’m so fucking-“

“Come on me.” His voice is tight and controlled and you are the exact opposite; at his words, you come undone, shrieking and writhing and bucking, shoving your face in the pillow as you wail his name. “Come for me, baby.” As you release around him, he lets out a strangled groan and you feel him come in you, fast and hot, the sensation ripping through you. “Feel me coming in you?”

You nod desperately, clenching around him. “Want it all; give me all of your cum,” you beg, and he inhales sharply. “I can feel you on my thighs, come in me and fill me up til I can’t take any more,” you beg, voice cracking with desire. “Please.”

“My girlfriend is so good,” Brendon groans, his thrusts slowing as he comes down from his climax and he pulls out of you after a moment. You both moan at the loss and he chuckles, running a hand down your back and giving your ass one last firm spanking. “God, baby, you’re a mess.” You laugh softly, nodding as your legs go flat on the bed. He collapses next to you and you snuggle into him, clinging to him. “Gonna take a little nap before you go ace this test?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, kissing his chest. “Thanks for helping my study.”

“My pleasure, Y/n, my pleasure.”


	4. It's Just Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request: Would you ever write anything about the reader and B getting high and then just having really chill sex? Like slow and loving? Idk it’s just a vision I have lmao 😂
> 
> AU!Brendon (college) x reader
> 
> Warnings: smoking and sex and I don’t like the ending and…yeah idk. Fuck it.
> 
> Word count: 2.5k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

“Brendon?” You knock on his dorm room door and wait, head cocked to the side. “Brendon, it’s me.” He flings the door open and you’re startled by the anxious expression in his eyes. “Brendon, are you o-“

He pulls you inside and shuts the door behind you. “I’m freaking out,” he admits. You give him a curious look and he stares at you. “Are you not freaking out?”

You realize what he’s talking about and shrug. “Baby, it’s just dinner.”

He gives you a dubious look. “Yeah, dinner with our parents.” You open your mouth and he cuts you off. “This is the first time we’ll all have dinner together, both families, since we started dating. Your mother used to refer to me as your best friend, now I’m fucking you. She’s going to see me differently.”

You drop onto his bed and pat the spot next to you. He comes over and allows you to wrap your arms around him and snuggle him. “Bren, even if she does see you differently, she’s not gonna say anything. You know she’s the type to smother everything down and hold it all inside. Your mom on the other hand…”

You both fall silent and Brendon groans after a moment. “Oh god, my mom is one-hundred percent going to say something about our sex life. She is going to say something and then I’m going to be annoyed and it’s gonna make your mom feel awkward and it’s gonna ruin the entire dinner and fuck-“ Brendon cuts himself off and kisses you hard. “I love you. I don’t care what my parents say or do tonight; I just love you and no matter how they try to get under my skin, I’m just gonna focus on you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too baby.” You run your hand through his hair and he closes his eyes, breathing slowly. “Try to relax. It’s gonna be okay. It’s just dinner.”

He nods against your chest and sighs. When he looks up at you again, there’s a glimmer in his eye. “I know what would help me relax,” he murmurs, kissing your jawline. You laugh and flutter your eyelashes at him teasingly.

“Yeah? You want me to blow you? Get some of that tension out?”

His eyes widen. “That’s not where I was going with that at all. But I mean, I like that idea too…”

You give him a confused look. “Where were you going with that then?” He leans over and rummage through his bedside table and you groan when you realize what he’s looking for. “Brendon, you cannot go to dinner with our parents high.”

He gives you a pointed look as he rolls onto his back and props himself up against the pillows. “Which is why if I smoke now, it’ll be wearing off by dinner and I’ll just be relaxed.” You frown and he grins. “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, okay. But you’d better not smell like anything. My mom will notice.” Brendon rolls his eyes, flicks the lighter, and takes a long drag. He gives you a questioning look, raising his eyebrows. “Fuck it, fine,” you sigh and he passes you the joint with a knowing smile.

-||-

“Commere, baby,” Brendon murmurs, eyes heavy and arms locking around your waist.

“Mmmm,” you purr, tangling your arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist. “This was a good idea.”

“Yeah it was,” he agrees, kissing your neck. You shiver with pleasure and moan, rolling your head to give him better access. “Y/n,” he sighs, and he’s so hard against your thigh. ”Baby.”

”Yeah, ” you whimper, snaking your hand between your bodies and cupping him. He bucks against your hand and you tip your head back to capture his lips. ”Love you, ” you whisper, moaning and clutching his head when his tongue finds yours. His hand slides under your shirt and his hand is so warm; you melt into his touch.

“You ever notice,” Brendon murmurs against your lips, stroking your stomach with two fingers, “how smooth your skin is?” You giggle and he nips at your neck. “And warm and soft and smooth…god,” he groans, pulling your shirt off over your head. “I just wanna touch every part of you.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” you say with a smile, pliant in his hands as they move up your back to your bra strap. “Touch away.” He kisses you softly and unclasps your bra. You wriggle out of it and his hands move from your back to your breasts, stroking and lifting and cupping, almost in awe.

“God, you’re incredible,” he whispers, lips moving back down your neck. “Hey,” he says like it’s the best idea he’s ever had, “I wanna fuck you.”

“Mmmm,” you sigh with a smile. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex; I thought you just wanted to smoke and relax.” He pouts against your neck and you giggle again when his teeth rake over your skin. “But if you’re asking nicely,” you add after a long moment, “I could be convinced.”

“I always ask nicely, baby,” Brendon counters smoothly, licking the shell of your ear and grins when you shiver and clutch at his shoulders. “Don’t I?” You nod weakly and he kisses back down your neck and over your collarbone. “Can I keep going?” He looks up at you and a thrill runs through you.

“Please,” you whisper. He scoots down your body and kisses over the swell of your breasts. “Bren,” you sigh, hips rolling under him. His tongue laps over your nipples and he sucks gently; it’s all so good, his mouth is so hot and wet and his tongue is so soft on you and you cry out, raking your hands through his hair. He moans when you tug at it and you arch your back under him, desperate for more. His lips keep moving, down across your rib cage and pausing at your stomach, tongue circling your navel, his eyes locked on yours. “Bren,” you repeat, a slight whine to your voice. “I need-“

“Yeah,” he cuts you off, going lower, tongue moving lower with his hands as he moves your leggings down your thighs. “I need you too.” You kick your leggings off and Brendon moans, hooking his arms under your thighs and dragging you down the bed, closer to his waiting mouth.

“Oh shit,” you sigh, already rolling your hips down to get closer. “Forgot how good it feels when-“

“Yeah,” Brendon groans, pulling back and kissing all over your thighs with a smile. “That’s because weed is-“

“I swear to god,” you cut him off with a laugh, “if you say the words “weed is tight,” I will put my pants back on and go back to my room.”

“No you won’t,” he counters, grinning. “You love my tongue too much and how good I make you come.” He flicks his tongue out against your clit to prove his point, groaning when you cry out and your thighs tighten around his head.

“You’re right,” you admit breathlessly. “You’re so fucking right. God, you’re so good.” He makes a soft sound against you and presses closer, rubbing two fingers against you. “B, you know I don’t- when we-“ and you’re rubbing back, whimpering. “I need- but you know I want to-“

He pulls back and gazes at you steadily. “I know. You want to keep going? We have time?”

“Ye-yeah, I think so.” You nod and he crawls up over you, kissing you slowly, lazily. “I mean,” and you giggle. “I definitely want to. I think we have time.”

“That’s more like it,” Brendon says with a grin, and he rolls onto his side to grab a condom from the nightstand while you reach under his bed to grab the shoebox where he stashes his lube.

He’s busy with the condom, so you take the opportunity to pour the lubricant on your fingers and start without him. “Ohh,” you sigh, back arching a little when your fingers slip against your heat. Brendon looks over at you and just about swallows his tongue.

“Goddamn, Y/n,” he says and he rolls back over to add his fingers to yours. “You look so sexy.”

“Just,” and you moan again, “wanted to…help. Yeah, help.”

“You’re certainly helping me,” Brendon grins, and you reach out to grasp his erection, and you both moan when his cock throbs in your hand. “God, you make me crazy. And holy fuck your pussy is just - I mean, my god.” He closes his eyes as your hand strokes over him at the same pace his fingers are moving. “I could live in here.”

You give him a weird look and he laughs. “That didn’t make any sense, did it?” You shake your head, and he laughs again. “I just mean - damn. So hot and tight and wet and slick and…I could spend all of my time here, fingering, licking, sucking, fucking you. I could live and die in your pussy and be fully satisfied.”

“I love you a lot,” you tell him, squeezing his dick. He narrows his eyes at you playfully.

“That sounds like nice girlfriend talk for ‘you’re an idiot, Brendon.’”

“I would never,” you argue, shifting under him so your strokes are subtly guiding him where you want him. “Now….” you say with a smile, “let’s fuck.”

-||-

“Oh god,” you gasp when he rocks into you, your hands splayed over his back. “How- you feel so- damn,” and you spread your legs wider. “I feel everything, Jesus it’s like you’re - fuck. Brendon, fuck.”

He’s panting over you, arms over your head, lips on yours, hips thrusting slowly. “You’re so goddamn tight,” he grunts in your ear and you gasp, rocking up against him. “Your pussy, Jesus, Y/n, you’re like a vice grip on my cock; gonna make me come, baby.”

“Do it,” you encourage, arching up to kiss him, tangling your legs around his waist. “Fucking love you,” you moan, “wanna feel you come.”

“Jesus,” Brendon groans, his forehead against yours. “You’re just -goddammit I wanna fuck you forever.” You nod eagerly and he brings a hand down from above your head to cup your face. “My beautiful girl.” His words do something to you and you let out a surprised moan as you come. “Yeah, come on me, baby,” he encourages, still thrusting into you slowly but bringing his other hand, the one not on your face, down to brush over your clit.

“Fuck!” Your voice is high and tight as he sets you off again, and you both cling to each other, breathing hard.

“Love making you come,” Brendon murmurs, rolling you both onto your side so you’re face to face and he can rest a hand possessively on the back of your thigh and pull you in close. “Love watching you come; you make the prettiest faces.”

“I do not,” you argue, shifting to be able to rock your hips against his, seeking more. “I look ridiculous.”

“What an odd way to pronounce ‘fucking gorgeous,’” Brendon counters, kissing your neck. “Gonna come for me again? Love feeling you come on me.”

“I could - if- ooooh shit,” you groan, biting his shoulder. “You’re - fuck don’t stop- just keep- right there, Bren, baby - yes,” you sigh as you feel the tremors rolling through you.

“Jesus, that was so good to watch and feel,” Brendon comments, brushing your hair out of your face. “I’m so fucking close baby, I’m so close.”

“You should come,” you tell him, running a hand through his hair and tugging. He inhales sharply and his hips buck forward. “Atta boy,” you say with a grin. “Just come for me.”

“Oh my god,” Brendon gasps, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Oh my god, this is how I’ll die- it’s too fucking good.” He’s rocking forward into you over and over again and you’re clinging to his shoulders, his climax ripping through you and filling you with heat. “Jesus,” he pants, rolling onto his back once he’s done, hips still twitching as he pulls the condom off and drops it into his trash can. His chest is heaving and his eyes are shut tight.

“Jesus,” you agree, shifting to drape yourself over him, kissing his neck.

“Fuck, Y/n, don’t do that unless-“ Brendon warns, cutting himself off with a groan when your hand closes around him and starts stroking him gently. Any normal day, this would be pleasant but it’d barely be a tease, but now, you observe hazily, he’s hard again, fully erect, and leaking over your grasp as he bucks into your hand, mumbling under his breath about how good you are. You wanna see if he’ll come again, so you pick up the pace the tiniest bit. “Baby, I could-“ and you stroke him harder, murmuring encouraging words in his ear. “Fuck,” he hisses, and his body stiffens.

“So sexy,” you murmur, biting your lip and watching him come. His hand goes to his hair, pulling and moaning and you alternate the pressure from your hand, as though you’re coaxing his come from him. “That’s it,” you say softly, “come for me.”

-||-

“Fuck.” You sit up blearily, rubbing your eyes. Brendon groans and, snaking an arm around your waist, pulls you back down to lay flush against him.

“Stay,” he groans.

“No,” you sit back up urgently, running a hand through your hair. “B, we have dinner with our parents. And we’ve been fucking and rubbing and touching and teasing each other all afternoon.”

“What’s your point?” He emphasizes his feelings on the matter by yawning.

“My point is, they’re gonna know something’s up. It’s in thirty minutes. Thirty minutes, Brendon.”

“Baby,” he says, sitting up and kissing your cheek while both hands roam your body. “It’s just dinner.”

“Are you mocking me?” You’re sure your sound horrified and he laughs, going for your neck.

“A bit. Now, calm down. Do we need to smoke another to get you calm?” He’s still laughing and you must look horrified too. “I’ve got more.” He sinks back down into bed, tugging you down with him. “I’ve got plenty more if you need more. Just want you to relax.”

“That’s literally the opposite of what would happen if I smoked more.”

“I don’t know,” Brendon mumbles, sliding both hands down your thighs from behind you. “I think you’d relax. But maybe I’m just trying to get you all hot again,” he suggests with a grin. “Maybe this is all part of my master plan.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say with a laugh, melting back into his touch. “But I love you.”

“And I love you. Now, we should probably put some clothes on. Dinners tend to be awkward without them.”


	5. The Vibrator One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vibrator One  
> By request:
> 
> ok, then what about reader has never done anything sexual and brendon buys her a vibrator and teaches her how to use it?
> 
> What if it’s a continuation of ‘it was always you’ :0 since he was her first fuck now he’s teaching her how to get herself off?
> 
> AU!college Brendon x reader.
> 
> Warnings: language, dirty talk, sex, toys.
> 
> Word count: 3k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

“It’s not fair,” Brendon groans, dropping onto your bed. “I don’t know why she won’t let you come with us.” You pat your lap and he shifts to rest his head in your lap, looking up at you forlornly. “I want you to come with me.”

“Bren, it’s your family’s annual Christmas trip. You’re supposed to spend time with your family, not your girlfriend.”

“You sound like you don’t want to come.” He frowns, rolling over onto his stomach, making your legs spread more to accommodate him. “Don’t you want to come?” He arches an eyebrow and you laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“You know I want to, in both senses.” You tug at his hair and his eyes flutter shut in pleasure. “But I know that your mom will not cave on this, so I’ve resigned myself to a very…chaste two weeks.”

Brendon’s eyes snap open. “Chaste?”

“Chaste,” you confirm. “Not like I’m going to come without you.” Brendon sputters at your words in disbelief.

“What do you mean, you’re not going to come without me?” He sounds almost upset if you’re reading his tone correctly. “You…you have come on your own, haven’t you?” You give him a blank look and his eyes go wide. “Y/n, are you honestly telling me right now that you don’t come when you masturbate?”

“Brendon,” you say in a grieved voice. “You know I hate that word.”

“Yes, but-“

“I don’t.”

“You don’t come when you-“ and he stops at the look on your face. “You don’t- at all?”

You shrug, feeling uncomfortable. “I was never able to come when I did, so I don’t see the point.”

“You don’t see the-“ Brendon cuts himself off. “Baby, I can’t leave you like this.”

“Like what?” You’re confused and he just shakes his head and stands up. “Brendon? What are you doing?”

“Get up,” he tells you, holding out his hand. “It’s date night, after all. I’m taking you out.”

-||-

You look around the parking lot, confused. “B, this isn’t- wait, where are we?” He doesn’t say anything, just smiles at you. “Bren, this is a-“ you stare out the window, horrified when you process where you are. “This is a sex shop.”

“Yup,” he says as he gets out of the car. He crosses to open your door and you sink deeper into your car seat. “Y/n, come on baby.” He holds out his hand to you and you look up at him, still in shock. “Come on,” he repeats with a grin. You accept his hand reluctantly and step out of the car, letting him kiss you. His embrace soothes you, and you melt into his touch, trying to stifle the whimper that is threatening to pass your lips as his tongue explores your mouth. “I’m gonna buy you a present,” Brendon mumbles against your lips.

You pull back, eyes wide. “You don’t have to do th-“

He presses his lips to yours softly. “You don’t come from your fingers. There are other options, you know. Let me buy you a present.” He waits until you nod and he leads you inside. Once in the vestibule, he turns to you, his face soft. “Baby, if you’re really uncomfortable, we don’t have to do this,” he tells you.

“No,” you say after a moment. “I do want to. I’m just…very embarrassed. I know I shouldn’t be, because it’s you, but I am. I do want to though. I promise.” He kisses you again and he opens the inner door. You follow him in and step back instinctively.

“This is a lot of leather,” you mutter under your breath and Brendon laughs, kissing the top of your head before leading you over to a display and low aisles. “I think I liked the leather better,” you tell Brendon, eyeing the multicolored silicone and metal pieces in front of you. You turn and are confronted by a series of, as they claim to be, toys incredibly realistic in both shape and size and color. “Oh god,” you groan, turning back into his arms. “I can’t do this.”

“I’m not buying you anything crazy,” he promises with a grin. “Something fairly tame.” He paces the aisle back and forth, picking up vibrators at random, studying them and looking at you. “What do you think?”

You shrug and he beckons the salesgirl over. She heads your way eagerly and Brendon points out three that he “thinks you’ll like.” The words are aimed at you and his tone is light and flirtatious. He squeezes your hand and you blush. The girl unpackages them all and grabs two batteries from her pocket and puts them in. She hits a button on the first and it buzzes to life and you instinctively step back. “May I?” Brendon holds out his hand and the girl hands the vibrating red thing to your boyfriend who handles it with a surprising amount of ease. He meets your eyes and you think you must be as red as the silicone in his hand. “Baby,” he says softly, reaching for your hand. The salesgirl pointedly walks away, saying seemingly to herself that she needs to sort the flavored condoms. Brendon takes your hand and turns it over, palm up, and places the tip against your ring finger.

“Oh!” You exclaim, and blush deeper. Brendon grins and hits the button and the vibrations increase. “Brendon,” you murmur, eyes growing heavy. “I, um. This feels kinda good,” you admit.

“Yeah it does,” he says with a grin. He leans in close, his breath hot on your neck as he brushes your hair back. “Now imagine it right on your-“

“Okay,” you cut him off quickly.

“Do you want to try others or-“

“Nope; this is good,” you insist, taking his hand and dragging him to the register, vibrator still active in his hand.

“I can’t tell if you’re embarrassed or horny,” Brendon comments as he turns it off and hands it over to the girl, who has returned to the register.

“Brendon,” you hiss, blushing deeply. Honestly it’s a bit of both, but right now it’s more humiliation. The girl puts it back in its packaging and rings it up. Brendon hands over his card and you cling to his other hand, desperate to leave. You’re proud of yourself for making it through this experience, but you’d really like to go home now. As you leave the shop, Brendon looks down at you, opens his mouth, decides against it, and smiles instead. He opens your car door and you sit, letting out a squeak of surprise when he sets the black shopping bag in your lap.

“So,” he says slowly when he settles into the driver's’ seat. He grins over at you and you meet his eyes. “That wasn’t awful.” His tone is somewhere between a statement and a question.

“Speak for yourself,” you tell him. After a moment, you break out into a grin. “It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done. But it wasn’t exactly my ideal date.”

Brendon chuckles, stroking your hand gently with his thumb. “No? Well perhaps date night can still end as it normally does and I can redeem myself?”

“Mmmm,” you agree, leaning over to kiss him. “You can absolutely try to redeem yourself and I look forward to your efforts.”

-||-

“Stop teasing,” you beg him, and he smiles, lapping at your clit slowly. “And fuck me.”

“Or,” Brendon counters, “we could do something else.”

“I don’t want to do something else; I want you to fuck me.”

“Well, I will be in a way,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh before scrambling off of your bed and reaching for the shopping bag. You watch him unpackage the vibrator, slip the batteries he purchased into it, and reach for the lubricant you’ve stashed in your bedside table. You hold out your hand and he looks at you, a bit surprised. You take the vibrator, a little taken aback by the weight of it in your hand. Without hesitating, you hold out your other hand and he pours a dime-sized drop of lube. Eyes on his, you stroke the toy gently. “Baby,” he sighs, reaching to cup his erection. “How are you so sexy and so innocent at the same time?”

You shrug and return to the task literally at hand. “Just lucky, I guess,” you tell him with a smile. He nods, and you give his pants a long stare before moving your eyes to his. “You should take those off.” He lets out a brief sigh of pleasure and rolls onto his back, pants already unbuttoned and being shoved down his thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans when his pants are low enough for his cock to free itself. “Come here, baby.” You crawl on top of him and grind against him, gasping when you roll your hips and drag your heat across his length. “No, wait-“ Brendon says in a choked voice, and he rocks his hips to the side, indicating he wants to spoon you. “Lay against me.” You do as he asks, whimpering when you feel him, hard and hot and throbbing, against your ass. “Can I?” And he’s holding out his hand and you give him the toy. He kisses your neck and brings the toy down in front of you, just waiting and breathing hard. “What do you like best before I get deep in that perfect pussy?”

You wrack your mind; you like everything he does to you. But what do you like best? The thought comes into your head and you feel pleased. “I really love when you sort of drag your cock up and down my lips and the head of your cock rubs against my clit.” You sound oddly proud of yourself for knowing the answer. He kisses your neck again and turns the toy on as he brings it down to rub against you. You let out a shape gasp when the tip of the toy brushes your clit; your back stiffens and your hips roll back against him.

“Fuck, baby,” Brendon sighs, rocking back against you. “Feels good?”

“Yeah,” and you’re surprised by how breathless and high your voice is. It does feel really good though.

“That’s my good girl,” Brendon murmurs, his free arm tightening around your waist before his hand moves up to caress your breasts. “Letting me tease her.”

“Doesn’t feel like a tease,” you gasp, grinding down against the silicone between your legs. “Feels pretty damn good.” Brendon moans his agreement as your motions push your ass back onto his length. “And I get to grind up on you? Jesus,” you pant, gripping the sheets with both hands as he moves the toy in small circles over and around your clit. “Gonna get me coming in no time.”

-||-

“Fuck, more, please,” you whine as Brendon rubs the toy across all of your wetness. “I need to come.” He’s breathing hard, face buried in the crook of your neck, grinding into you roughly. “‘Make me come, baby.”

“Y/n,” he gasps, hips bucking hard. “So fucking sexy, Jesus. Here-“ and he tips his hand just enough for the toy to slip into you. “God, you take cock so well; look at you just grinding down, desperately wanting it deep in your pussy. You like how that feels, baby? You like that?”

“Fuck yeah,” you whimper, raising a leg and hooking your calf around his to spread yourself wider. “And that part right on my clit? My god,” you cut yourself off with a moan. “I’m gonna come.” You tell him in a high voice, your hand wrapping around his wrist and forcing him to thrust the toy into your pussy harder, faster. Your hips are rolling, rocking, bucking, and Brendon is grunting in your ear as he continues to grind into you. “I’m so fucking close,” you tell him, craning your neck to kiss him fiercely. The kiss is sloppy and he moans into your mouth, cock really leaking pre-cum now.

“Gonna come too,” he tells you, tugging your hair. “Gonna come.”

“Fuck, but you’re-“ you can’t finish the thought, the vibrations between your legs are too good. He’s not even in you, you manage to think.

“Gonna come,” Brendon repeats in a low voice. “Gonna come against you, gonna come from those fucking sounds you’re making as you grind against my dick while you get fucked, letting me fuck you with this toy.”

“Will you come in me? I want your cum in me.” You’re begging; he groans your name and you feel him start to come at your words. “In me,” you insist, using your hand to push his with the toy away and reach back between your legs to settle back onto his cock as he continues to come.

“Holy shit, your pussy,” he gasps, throbbing inside you and another hot wave leaves him.

“Now,” you whimper, grabbing his hand with the toy and moving it back so the tip is rubbing over your clit like it was when he started. “Oh fuck!” You’re squealing, head tossed back against his shoulder, bucking hard as your walls squeeze his length and you come, hard.

“Come on my cock,” Brendon grunts in your ear. “Come on my cock like a good girl.” He abandons the toy since you’re holding it in place to rub against it as you come. He’s running his hands over you, one on your hip to keep you on his dick. You’re moaning and thrashing and when you roll onto your stomach to grind down hard against the toy, Brendon rolls with you, adjusting so he’s not crushing you.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, arching your back, offering yourself to him. “Don’t stop, fuck me.”

“Jesus,” Brendon groans, shifting so he can thrust into you as you press the toy to your clit. “So fucking sexy.” You know what he needs to stay hard after coming, so you moan his name wantonly, pushing back to take more - it works; his cock pulses inside you and he’s breathing hard. “My good girl,” he manages, his voice tight.

“Say it again,” you beg, gasping and panting and moaning. “Say it again.”

“Y/n, baby, you’re my good girl, so good, so sweet, fucking perfect, damn.”

-||-

“Oh- oh fuck- oh go- right now, my god right now,” you shriek, eyes snapping open. You’re both flat on your backs next to each other, your left hand tangled with his right, clutching each other. You whimper when your eyes meet his as your hand works the toy between your legs. “Brendon-“

“Y/n,” he gasps, hand flying over his cock to match your thrusts. “Lemme see you come.” He squeezes your hand.

“Oh god,” you groan, craning your neck to kiss him needily as your climax comes down. “B, this was such a good idea.”

“Yeah it was,” he murmurs, hips still bucking as he grips his arousal, getting closer.

“Come,” you tell him, the the hand that was working the toy in and out of you abandoning the silicone and moving to wrap your hand around his. He grunts and removes his hand, only to wrap around yours. “That’s it,” you soothe. “You want to come with your girl’s hand on your dick? Do it. Come.”

“Fuck,” Brendon manages in a tight voice, hips bucking once more under your touch. “Baby-“

“I know,” you whisper, “I know.”

-||-

“You gonna be okay when I’m gone?” Brendon is laying on his side, right hand still holding yours, both pushed above your head but the left back on the toy, fucking you slowly with it. “You gonna be able to come?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider and trying to get more. “Yeah, B, I’m gonna be okay, goddamn fuck me, I’m right there.” You’re already shaking with exertion from your earlier orgasms; this one might be the one to send you over the edge of sleep once it subsides.

“Maybe,” he muses,” kissing you softly, “maybe you shouldn’t come at all. Maybe we should agree that you can only come on my cock.” You let out a sputter of disbelief and he chuckles. “Maybe that’s what I’ll do. Teach you how to tease yourself, make yourself come, and then tell you to wait two weeks to really come, seeing as I don’t want anything you’ve got to give to go to waste, unappreciated.”

“B-“ you choke, back arching as you come, gasping and writhing and bucking. “Don’t-“

“Yeah, that might be torture. Maybe we should agree you can’t come without me hearing or seeing it?”

“What if you’re busy?” You manage the question as your orgasm rips through you.

“Leave a voicemail.”

“Fucking hell,” you whimper, grabbing him by the hair and bringing his mouth to yours. “Your voicemail is gonna be full.”

“Should be your pussy, but we all make sacrifices,” Brendon says quickly with a grin. “Now,” and he pulls the toy from you slowly, kissing you gently when you cry out at the loss. “Now, I want you to go get in the shower and wait for me. I’m gonna clean up a bit out here-“ and his hand moves over your sheets, “and then I’ll come join you.”

“Don’t be long,” you murmur against his lips. “Date night isn’t over.” He raises an eyebrow and you grin. “I haven’t gotten to blow you yet. And,” you pause. “I’m pretty sure my present is waterproof.” Brendon groans, pinning you down and kissing you hard, both of you gasping when you feel how hard he is still. “Let me up baby, let me get in the shower so I can get on my knees for you and fuck myself hard while your dick is in my mouth.”

“You’re the best,” Brendon murmurs. “The fucking best. God, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you tell him with a smile. “Now let’s go mess around in the shower.”


End file.
